


Absolution

by Mariya_Munro



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-04
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2020-11-23 09:53:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 17,016
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20890181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mariya_Munro/pseuds/Mariya_Munro
Summary: An ex Slytherin student with secrets of her own, now works in the heart of Hogwarts alongside her colleagues Severus Snape and Remus Lupin. Attracted to these two very different wizards and struggling with her confused loyalties to The Order of the Phoenix. Which direction will she choose?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own nothing in the Harry Potter universe; all characters belong to J.K Rowling aside from my original character.
> 
> This is my first fanfic so I am very excited to get your thoughts, comments, reviews etc.…
> 
> I plan to finish this story in 10 chapters.
> 
> Enjoy!

Chapter 1

A wet, dull November evening greets me as I land at the bottom of a steep hill. I quickly steady myself, waiting for the predictable feeling of dizziness to leave. Once my stomach calms I tighten my cloak around myself and wait patiently for the others to arrive. The sky above is overcast and rain is steadily drizzling down. The students gradually appear in pairs. Most of them are accustomed to travelling by Portkey, but for the few that get Portkey-sick I promptly administer an anti-sickness potion. All present and accounted for we begin to trudge our way through the mud soaked ground, up the hill towards our destination.

There is nothing sinister about the manor as we approach it, nothing to warn inquisitive visitors to stay away. The manor is deathly quiet as we cross over the threshold and enter the impressive hallway. The only sound comes from the rain pounding against the exterior windows and our wet footsteps echoing throughout the rooms. "Lumos," I flash the light from my wand into the gloom. For all the good it does, the corridor ahead remains stubbornly dark. I look back at the rest of the group as they trail in behind me. These students are the newest members of the Order of the Phoenix. They have all recently come of age and this is their first mission for the Order. Their eager faces scan the rooms as we make our way through the maze of hallways, to the ballroom at the heart of the mansion.

This place hasn't been lived in since the owners were killed during a Death Eater attack over five months ago. When I close my eyes I can still see the Dark Mark, hanging over us as we carried out their lifeless bodies. Since then the house has lain empty, undisturbed. Just in case twelve Grimmauld Place is ever compromised, Dumbledore has made this manor one of our new safe houses. Remus Lupin, Alastor Moody, Arthur Weasley and myself, have volunteered to show the twelve young Order members our new safe house.

We enter the ballroom, which is a truly magnificent room with its marble floor and plush furnishings. A long dining table that has been pushed to the far side of the room could easily fit twenty wizards around it. Just like my own parents' ballroom, I can imagine the lavish parties this room has held. "Right everyone, listen up," Moody's voice pulls my attention back to the group. Moody moves to the front of the room, his wooden leg scraping loudly against the marble floor "This is not a field trip; Order business is not to be taken lightly… constant vigilance!" I watch the old Auror as he captivates the children's attention with his barking voice and distinct appearance. Shamefully my own attention drifts easily once again from Moody's growling voice. I look up at the elaborate crystal chandelier suspended above us, apart from our wands, the only source of light in the room. I start to walk around the group. Passing Remus I roll my eyes and nod my head towards Moody, Remus smiles at me in silent agreement to Moody's tedious speech. I wander over to the other side of the room, a grand piano covered in a thin layer of dust stands abandoned. I ghost my fingers over the ivory keys; it's been a long time since I played. The hand-carved mahogany is decorated with flowers in mother of pearl and semi-precious stones. The grandiosity of what I'm looking at stirs childhood memories of practicing diligently with my instructor. Music would spread throughout my veins the same way magic does.

I jump at the sound of apparitions popping multiple times around the room. My wand is at my side but I don't move fast enough. "Expelliarmus," it leaps from my grasp. I don't have time to react as I'm grabbed from behind and pulled tight against a body behind me. I instantly freeze, too shocked to attempt to break free. I watch as over thirty hooded figures in skeletal masks appear from the shadows, surrounding everyone from all angles, wands drawn. The large, obviously male, body holding me captive is pressed firmly against my back. His left arm is wrapped around my chest, pinning my arms to my side. I feel him lean forward, his mouth close to my ear. The heat from his lips tickles my skin. His voice is low and deep. "Struggle" he whispers. I gasp as I recognise the voice of Severus Snape, my colleague and friend. Even in the confusion, as shouts of alarm fill the room, I feel safer in his presence. Immediately Snape yanks my arm painfully behind me and sneers quietly, "you need to do exactly what I say. Start struggling now!" The pain reverberating up my arm snaps me out of my stupor. I start to struggle against him. It doesn't take much acting on my part; friend or not Snape is a formidable man.

My eyes snap over to the children as I hear screams and shouts of fear. Standing in the middle of his followers is the terrible figure of the Dark Lord. The sight of him is as repulsive as it could be. He appears proudly amongst us, his mere presence filling me with more fear and disgust than I would have ever imagined possible. I have never laid eyes on him before. Even with all the stories I've heard, his appearance is still shocking. He is tall and thin, with the whitest skin I have ever seen and a large smile on his reptilian face. I try not to stare as he stalks around us; his joyless voice is triumphant at how easy members of Dumbledore's Order have been to capture. I make eye contact with Remus across the room; his shocked expression mirrors my own. Our guards were down and in disbelief we have allowed ourselves to be overpowered so easily. Voldemort's manic laughter rings in my ears and echo's around the room. His gaze, when it falls on me, is long, steady and intense. My heart stops at his mere presence. What feels like minutes is only seconds and then he's gone.

When I've got my breathing back under control I can hear him intimidating the children, presuming he can bully them into submission. I keep my face purposely blank as I scan the room quickly but there's no obvious way to get everyone out safely. Each Order member has had their wand confiscated and is being forcibly restrained by one or two Death Eaters. The only Order member with a slight advantage here is me. Unlike some of my colleagues I have no doubt of Snape's loyalty to the Order. However scary the situation, I trust Snape will do whatever he can to aide me in getting everyone out. The question is how much can he do without showing his hand. I continue scanning the room, praying for inspiration. Voldemort's ranting is getting louder and louder, I hear screams as Harry Potter is thrown to the ground. I wonder if Snape can feel my heart pounding in fear. Suddenly Snape's long fingers grasp around my neck. Not enough to choke me but the pressure still makes my eyes water. He turns my head to the side, his dark eyes through the holes in his Death Eater mask fix upon my mine. My breath catches as he slips easily into my mind. I have experienced Legilimency many times but never like this. Snape's intrusion feels like ice water flowing its way to every part of my brain. No wonder he is the perfect Dumbledore spy, he is without a doubt the most skilled Legillimens I have ever encountered. It only takes seconds for my mind to be fully invaded. Images start to fly and flip behind my eyes. The pictures Snape plants in my head, fly and shift like a kaleidoscope. I try my best to grasp onto them but in panic they disappear before I can make sense of them. Suddenly the images began to slowly focus. An image of a chandelier sways precariously above me. As it fades shards of glass fly through the air, cutting into my skin as I desperately try to shield myself against the pain that never comes. Then I'm plunged into darkness. Just as quickly as he entered my mind he's gone. My vision clears and my thoughts are my own again. The chandelier is still above us. Nothing has changed but thanks to Snape, I know what I have to do.

"I'm ready," I whisper. I feel Snape pull me closer, he covers me quickly with his long Death Eater cloak as his other hand moves to the middle of my back. My face flushes as I become aware of the heat of him against me. Then his hand is slipping something into my back pocket, my wand! "Now!" he whispers in my ear. I break myself from his hold and brandish my wand in his direction, throwing a curse which knocks him to the ground. The whole room's attention is on me. I aim my wand at the chandelier, praying to Merlin that Snape's plan works, "Diffindo." The noise is deafening as glass and metal crash down around us. I brace myself on the floor, as glass shatters in all directions. Seconds pass and an eerie silence settles over the room. I take a deep breath and then I'm up and running, glass crunching under my feet. I dodge the curses Snape throws my way; he can't make this easy on me. I send stunners in all directions, trying to hit as many Death Eaters as I can to free their captives. The dark room lights up with every curse and counter curse. I fire spell after spell at the Death Eaters closing in. In the confusion Remus has wrestled himself away from his Death Eater and is running alongside me, shooting hexes at the Death Eaters surrounding us. "Lead everyone out of the east entrance and get them straight to the portkey" Remus yells at me. "I'll hold them off." I nod, as he turns back. I quickly duck behind the now upturned dining table. The large table is the perfect shield as I try my best to catch my breath. Carefully I peer around to see the room is in chaos. I search quickly for Voldemort but he is no longer here. I assume he's quickly retreated, his corporal body too weak to risk harm. I can't make out Snape amongst the Death Eaters. I hope he's ok. I wonder if Voldemort has summoned him to assist in his retreat. Remus is efficiently helping the students, pointing them in my direction. Counting to three I take a deep breath and re-join the fray. After several minutes of fighting I have seven students running with me. "Stay close!" I yell as we run through the corridors and out of the front door.

I can hear the thud of footsteps behind me; I turn to see two Death Eaters are following close behind us. "Faster!" I yell at the others. My legs protest as we pick up the pace and start running down the hill. The ground is so wet I can feel myself losing my footing but I can't risk slowing down. The Death Eaters are gaining on us, moving closer and closer. Then a jet of light hits me in the back, knocking the breath from my lungs. I stumble and skid before falling onto the wet ground. I try to get back up but I can barely get enough air into my lungs. It feels like fire in my chest where my lungs should be. One of the children I think its Longbottom, starts to run over to help. I shake my head frantically at him. "No keep going." The pain in my back is becoming too intense. Scared I'll pass out at any minute, I desperately try to move. Grabbing tufts of grass between my fingers I try to drag myself up to my feet but my body has lost all strength. Afraid I'll cause myself further injury but quickly running out of options I curl my body up and push myself to roll the rest of the way down the hill. As I pick up speed I fling out my arms to try and grab on to anything to slow myself. Suddenly my head hits a rock. I lay on the ground my head smarting from the pain. I can hear footsteps approaching me. I still myself against further assault but instead I am carefully picked up off the ground. My vision blurs as darkness takes me.


	2. Chapter 2

The hooded figures appear from nowhere. They run with speed and rapidly push me down. My wand is missing and I’m powerless to protect myself. One of them throws their considerable weight onto my chest. I can’t breathe. I don’t have enough strength to fight him off. Vivid red eyes glare down at me. “Blood traitor!” echo’s in my head. 

When I wake, the faded images from my nightmare reverberate in my mind. My body protests at being jerked awake. Everything hurts. My head is throbbing and the skin on my back stings like raw sunburn. My ears strain to hear any noise but there is only silence and the thumping of my heart in my chest. I lay deathly still in the semi darkness, desperately trying to remember how I got here. I can recall running as curses flew past my head and then nothing. Slowly my eyes start to sharpen the blurred images before me. The spacious, sterile white room is one I recognise. It's where I spend most of my days - I’m in Hogwarts Hospital Wing. 

I close my eyes again in relief, thanking Merlin that I'm not dead or being held as a Death Eater captive. How long have I been here? The darkness of the room indicates it’s obviously the middle of the night. My attention is brought back to my injuries. I experimentally check which muscles are hurt, carefully moving and stretching. Each muscle aches but my back and head are the only areas of concern. I want to get up and assess the extent of the damage. I move as cautiously as I can but I can't help moaning loudly as my head lifts from the pillow and a heavy wave of nausea hits me. I lay back down slowly, waiting for the feeling of sickness to go. Suddenly I can hear shoes briskly slapping along the tiled hospital floor rapidly approaching my cubicle. The privacy screen around my bed is pushed back and Poppy walks over to me. "You’re awake, good! You gave us quite a fright, my dear," she says beaming down at me. Her smiling oval face, freshly ironed pinafore and gracefully pinned chignon, instantly comfort me. Madam Poppy Pomfrey is not only my colleague but a dear friend. She was the one who supported me in pursuing a career as a healer, instead of bowing down to my father’s demands of marrying once I had finished school. With her support and encouragement I got into a prestigious medical college and passed my exams with honours. Once I graduated Dumbledore invited me back to Hogwarts to work in the infirmary alongside Poppy. She plans to retire in the next few years and even though I will miss her terribly the idea of becoming matron is exciting. Since my own parents have all but disowned me, Poppy treats me like her own daughter. 

"Don't try and move, you took a nasty curse to your back. We nearly sent you to St Mungo's.” Poppy busies herself around me, casting diagnostic spells and checking my bandages. I try and speak but my voice is horse and just makes me cough. Carefully Poppy slips her hand behind my head and slightly lifts me up. She slowly pours a potion down my throat and gets me to take a few sips of water. "Another day or two with lots of rest you should be as right as rain." I desperately want to ask her about everyone else. Is anyone else hurt or worse? But the heavy feeling of drowsiness from the potion she’s given me is starting to take hold. "You've had a gentleman caller tonight but I told him I do not permit visitors after hours,” her firm voice is at odds with the mischievous smile on her face that I've come to know so well. Poppy has always been shocked at my seemingly happy single status. She often takes it upon herself to play matchmaker as often as she can. I try to speak but my vision blurs and I slowly succumb to a potion induced sleep.

When I awaken my head doesn't feel as foggy as before. I squint at the early morning sun, shining through the high windows. There's a dull ache radiating from my back, replacing the sharp pain of last night. I glance over to my right to see the chair next to my bed is occupied. Slumped in the chair and fast asleep is the comforting, dependable figure of Remus Lupin. In sleep his hand is tightly clasping mine in a firm grip. I shouldn't be surprised to see him here. Since he took up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher a year ago we have become good friends. The sun light shines down on him highlighting his teaching robes, old and slightly frayed in places. His greying hair and lined face shows his age in a way I hadn’t noticed before. He looks exhausted; I won't wake him just yet. 

Removing my hand from his, I push back the bedsheets and carefully ease my legs out of bed. Dizziness threatens to engulf me and my back complains at my sudden movements, but after a few deep breaths it starts to subside. I grab a hospital gown from the end of my bed and, sliding into a pair of slippers, I gradually make my way over to the large mirror at the far side of the infirmary. When I get to the mirror I stare at my reflection, turning my head slowly and examining my face. I look a mess. I have a large bandage around my forehead and I can feel another one across the expanse of my back. Carefully I touch the exposed skin of my forehead. It’s painful to touch and unsightly, but already healing. I move the collar of my hospital gown to see the skin of my neck is purple. The unattractive bruise is the exact shape of Snape’s fingers. Memories flash of the feel of his skin against mine and his mind connected with my own. I trace the skin of my throat carefully wondering how long it will take for his touch to fade. I turn from my reflection and promptly shake that thought from my mind. 

As I walk back to my bed I notice privacy screens pulled around two cubicles. I tiptoe up to them, not wanting to disturb the patients and peer inside. There are two students occupying the beds, one is Harry Potter and in the bed next to him is Dean Thomas. Both of the boys are Order members and were with me in the manor during the attack. Even though seeing them lying here is distressing, I can see that they are both peacefully sleeping and have only superficial injuries. I will check with Remus, but hopefully everyone else managed to get out of the mansion safely. I can hear Poppy moving around in her office. I tread softly the rest of the way back to my hospital bed. I could do without receiving a stern reprimand from her about not taking it easy.

Back in my cubicle I quietly approach Remus, who is still fast asleep. I would like to leave him to rest longer but I know he has classes this morning. It pulls at my heart that he has spent the last few hours awkwardly slouched in this uncomfortable chair just to stay by my side. I shake him gently, already regretting that I need to disturb him.

As he wakes he smiles sleepily up at me, "Good morning, how are you feeling?" 

"I'm ok thank you, healing fast thanks to Poppy."

“Thank goodness,” his voice full of concern. “You really had me worried.” 

“Does Poppy know you’re here?” 

“No,” he grins at me. "I managed to sneak past her last night."

I laugh, “You better go before you’re discovered.” 

“Don’t worry about me; I’m sure I can talk her round.” He winks at me as he runs his hands through his messy hair. As we laugh together Remus stretches his arms high above his head, clicking several muscles in the process. The bottom of his shirt rides up to show a small portion of the lean muscle of his abdomen. I look away quickly hoping he hasn’t seen me watching. 

"Remus, I’ve seen Potter and Thomas are here. What about everyone else, how are the others?" 

Remus clears his throat awkwardly, "unfortunately Alistair is missing."

I can feel a sinking sensation in my stomach. "Oh no,” I gasp. “What happened?” 

Remus shakes his head sadly. “Arthur and I checked the manor as thoroughly as we could before we left. We assumed everyone had got themselves out and headed to the port-key. Once we all got back to Hogwarts that’s when we realised he was missing. The rest of the Order is out searching for him, but there is still no news." The two of us sit for a few minutes in silence until Remus leans over, putting a comforting hand on my shoulder. “You are the main reason everyone else is safe. I don't know how you managed to do what you did."

I quickly avoid his eyes as I think of Snape and my concern that Voldemort may have discovered his involvement. I want to ask him if Snape was hurt at all but decide against it and instead ask Remus, “how are you, you weren’t injured at all?”

“Thanks to you nothing more serious than a few scratches.”

I roll my eyes at him, “I wasn’t much help while I was sleeping the sleep of the knocked unconscious.” 

“Don’t be silly, that genius idea you had with the chandelier saved us. No one was expecting that and once Voldemort fled, the Death Eaters were too unnerved to put up a proper fight.” For the second time I bite my tongue to stop myself mentioning Snape. I know Remus would not be happy to hear Snape used Legilimency on me.

"I don't remember much detail about how I got here. What happened?"

His tired eyes look wearily at me “After you hit your head... you needed to be carried back here.”

The feeling of being carried flashes through my memory, “yes I vaguely remember. It was Snape?”

Remus looks at me, his expression surprised. “Um no,” he stutters looking slightly embarrassed, “it was me.”

I try not to react. Of course it was Remus. He hadn't been that far behind me and Snape would never have risked blowing his cover by coming back for me. “Oh of course,” I smile at him. “Thank you for saving me.” The tension crackles between us. Spending time with Remus has always been a pleasure, recently though there are undercurrents of misunderstanding, like a message that I keep missing. A few more minutes pass in awkward silence. Finally Remus breaks it. “I had better go, let you get some rest and my first class will be waiting for me.” I watch as he stands wearily. I want to kick myself for speaking without thinking.

“Thank you for staying with me last night.” I try to reach for his hand but he withdraws hurriedly. He nods, a sad smile coming to his lips. “You’re welcome.” He slides open the privacy screen to reveal Poppy lurking just behind it, holding a welcoming cup of steaming hot tea. It is obvious from her expression and flushed cheeks that she overheard our conversation and didn’t expect to be discovered snooping. Remus excuses himself politely to Poppy as he walks past her. In her slight embarrassment she forgets to scold him for sneaking in outside of visiting hours. After he leaves, Poppy frowns at me “I don't understand you sometimes. He's a nice young man and obviously cares for you.” I sigh. “It's complicated Poppy.” She huffs at my comment, “It always is with you youngsters. Now drink your tea.”


	3. Chapter 3

Poppy keeps me in the infirmary for another two nights. Like a mother hen, she enjoys the opportunity to fuss over me and delights in Remus’s daily visits. Thankfully, he does not hold our last conversation against me and when I see him again the awkwardness is gone. On Monday morning, Dumbledore pays me a brief visit. I can hear him speaking to Poppy, inquiring after the two students and myself. When he comes to speak to me, he thanks me for a valiant effort in securing the escape of all the students. As I start to tell him about Snape, he stops me and casts a privacy charm around my cubicle. “I have been made aware of the day’s events,” he states with a smile on his face as his bright blue eyes twinkle back at me.

“Have you spoken to Severus?” I ask.

“Yes, he has informed me of your bravery.”

“And he’s ok?”  
“Don’t worry about Severus.” He cuts off our conversation as Poppy walks into the cubicle. “Excuse me Headmaster; Mr Potter is quite insistent on speaking with you.” 

Dumbledore nods solemnly “Of course.” Turning his attention back to me, “Poppy tells me your wounds are healing quickly; take the rest of the week off to fully recover.” It is more time than I need but I agree without protesting.

Throughout my stay in the Hospital Wing, most of my colleagues come to see how I am doing; the only notable absence being Snape. I know I should not take it personally; Snape is not the most sociable of wizards. The two students, Potter and Thomas, go back to their dorms after one night’s stay. Once they have left, I am the only inpatient. The potions I am taking keep me drowsy so I sleep for most of the day. I feel rested for the first time in weeks. When I am not asleep, I catch up on reading library books that Remus has fetched me. Apart from the occasional student needing a headache potion or Pepper-Up, the infirmary remains empty.

After three days, it is a blissful relief when Poppy informs me that my wounds have healed sufficiently enough, that she is allowing me back to my rooms. So I don’t exhaust myself, Poppy demands that I Floo directly from the infirmary. Unlike Poppy, whose quarters are right next to the infirmary for connivance, mine are on the fifth floor. I have never been so happy to see my own rooms. Though not spacious, I have longed for the familiarity of my things. Relieved I can plan my days as I choose I decide to make full use of the prefects bathroom along the hall. I fill the large white marble bathtub to the brim with hot water and bubble bath, relaxing for almost an hour until the mermaid in the stained glass window rudely exclaims, “You’re starting to look like a prune!” I ignore her and soak a little longer, before finally getting out.

After I have had a few days to relax and enjoy the peace of being in my own space, I feel at a loss as to what to do with all my free time. Apart from my back, which is still slightly sore, the rest of my body has healed and is starting to feel restless. It has been days since I have done any real exercise and decide to use up my unspent energies by going for a gentle jog around the Hogwarts grounds. Grabbing my running shoes, I make my way to the front entrance of the castle and look out over the sloping lawns. I breathe deeply, feeling the tension leave my shoulders. Nothing lifts my spirits more than spending time in these beautiful gardens. Realising the students will be in classes for another two hours, I plan to make full use of the opportunity to run alone. I stretch first and start with a slow jog, watching my footing carefully as the recent rain has turned the ground into mud. I run around the perimeter of the Lake and watch the water’s surface ripple. I pass the greenhouses and vegetable patches and wave to Professor Sprout as she teaches. 

I approach the Forbidden Forest and test my muscles, before starting to sprint. I stick to the edge of the Forest. It is only off limits to students and since becoming a member of staff, I have secretly delighted in being allowed to step foot in these magical woods. It still feels like I am doing something I should not and I know Poppy would chasten me for taking a risk while I am still healing. As my run eases back into a jog, it becomes instinctive and easy. 

Venturing deeper into the woods, I reach a clearing with a small brook and stop to catch my breath. As my heartbeat slows and my breathing returns to normal I notice a patch of small star-shaped, yellow flowers nestled in the middle of what looks like regular weeds. Curious, I make my way over to them, careful not to trip over any upturned roots or uneven ground. As I approach, I recognize what they are. Their scent is strong and sweet and the petals almost glow in the dull light. These flowers are Saintpaulia, a rare flower that has extremely powerful healing properties. Using my wand, I snip as many flowers as I can see, charm them to keep them preserved and place them carefully inside my pockets. I wrap my cloak tighter around myself against the chill in the air and start back towards the castle. 

This evening Remus pays me a visit after his classes finish. His company is always welcome and recently we are in the habit of spending most evenings together. He notices my mud covered shoes in the hallway, tilting his head downwards to meet my eyes, he asks, “You went outside today?”

“Only for a short walk around the castle,” I lie as I hang up his teaching robe on the back of the door. “It was nice to stretch my legs.”

We both take a seat in front of my fireplace. He favours my old-fashioned armchair, as I perch beside him on my comfortable sofa. I tuck my legs under me as he re-adjusts the collar of his shirt, warming up from the heat of the fire. A loud crack echoes around the room as a house-elf appears, carrying my evening meal and tea for Remus. Dumbledore has organised the house-elves to bring all my meals to my rooms while I am recovering. When we are alone again, we chat easily as I eat. Remus informs me of the sad news that Mad-Eye Moody is still missing and presumed dead. When the clock strikes 10 above the fireplace, Remus stands wearily as we both start yawning at the lateness of the hour. I also stand, my head only just reaching his shoulders as he hugs and wishes me goodnight. Alone, my thoughts return to Mad-Eye and I wonder how many of my days are numbered. 

My week off is over and I am excited to return to my duties this morning. My bandages are off and my bruises hidden by a glamour charm. I make my way into the great hall for breakfast. At the staff table, a chorus of warm wishes greet me from my colleagues. I smile and thank everyone and take my usual seat. As I eat, I look out to the rest of the noisy hall, filled with chattering students sitting at four long wooden tables. I enjoy watching them and their carefree conversations with each other. My attention focuses on my old House.

Being born into a long line of pure bloods, I was destined to end up in Slytherin. I loved my time in my House and due to my prestigious family name; I was a popular student. In my sixth year, Snape took over from Horace Slughorn as Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House. I always liked and respected him and I believe he felt the same when he made me Prefect in my final year. As the war intensifies, I worry about my old House and have spoken to Snape at great lengths about how to support the vulnerable students stuck in between their family’s beliefs and the school’s ethics.

I have my own experience of fighting against my parent’s pureblood standards. My family have always been silent supporters of Voldemort and approve of his hatred of muggles. I know they have given untraceable financial aid to further his cause. As a teenager, I battled my father regularly as he tried to enforce his beliefs on to me. He openly spoke of his dislike of muggles and fiercely threatened that I should avoid any muggle born or half-blood students. As an only child while the pressure of their expectations weighed heavily on me. My mother would stand by silently while my father ranted about making the right connections, as our admired family name rested on my ability to secure an esteemed marriage. I had no desire to marry a wizard of their choosing. I eventually had the courage to refuse and explained to them my plans to further my education. When coercion and threats did not sway me, my father followed through with his threats and disowned me. Even though the pain of not seeing my family hurts, I know I made the right decision. 

Remus interrupts my train of thought as he arrives at the staff table and sits to my left. The seat on my right remains empty and I am hoping before I leave, Snape will make an appearance. My eyes keep scanning the great hall for him. At the end of breakfast, I try to dawdle for as long as I can but I do not want Remus to ask why. Eventually I leave the great hall and make my way to the Hospital Wing. 

It is a busy first day back in the infirmary. In the morning, two Hufflepuff girls arrive with bruises and sprains after tumbling down a moving staircase. Soon after a third year Gryffindor, appears from a Herbology lesson with an open wound on his hand after a bite from a Morsus plant. The wound is not very deep and luckily, the plant is non-toxic. Once the area is clean, I murmur a healing spell and the wound closes. 

The day passes quickly and in the evening, we are tidying up hurriedly as not to miss the weekly staff meeting. Poppy shoos me ahead of her as she stays behind to deal will a student covered in large green pustules, due to an ill-fated potions incident. As I make my way to the staff room, I turn a corner and see Snape, wearing his trademark black robes I could not miss him. He is only halfway down the empty corridor when I jog up behind him. He does not slow down or turn around, even though I know he has heard me approaching. Instead, his pace quickens, as he takes a sharp turn towards the staff room. I hurry after him. "Hi,” it comes out more breathlessly than I'd like. 

He turns to look at me, his expression does not make it clear whether my presence is welcome or not. “Good evening,” his eyes glance down to my throat. I know he cannot possibly see the bruise due to the glamour charm, but I wonder if he guesses that his mark still faintly mars my skin. “Glad to see you have made a full recovery.”

We continue to walk in silence; I keep glancing at him while he avoids my gaze, his expression indefinable. “I thought you might have paid me a visit,” I smile up at him slyly.

He raises an eyebrow at my comment, “you don’t need my company when you have your faithful mutt by your side." We have reached the stone gargoyles guarding the entrance to the Staffroom. Before I can respond he opens the staff room door and holds it open, letting me pass. I glare at him as I duck under his arm and enter the room. It obviously does not have the desired effect as he smirks at my look and makes his way over to the far corner of the room. I see Remus who waves me over predictably he has saved me a seat next to him. I wince as my slightly tender back touches the back of the chair. While Dumbledore talks I keep glancing over at Snape. His jaw is stuck in a stubborn fashion, he never looks my way but stares straight ahead, unblinking. As soon as the meeting is over Snape is the first to file out of the room. As he passes, he purposely glances at Remus and me. I do not recognise the look he gives us until I realise that during the course of the meeting Remus has placed his arm around the back of my chair. After Snape leaves the room, I immediately feel lighter without his presence.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 

After dinner, I stop by the library to return a few books. Now that classes are over, the hallways are mostly empty. I take my time walking back to my rooms. I will be patrolling the castle tonight after the student’s curfew starts and need to kill time. Later in the evening as the clock chimes, signalling the start of curfew, I walk past my wall calendar and notice I have marked todays date with a capital R. I pack supplies into my bag, grab my warm cloak, tuck my wand into my sleeve and start walking towards my designated section of the castle. 

The first hour of my patrol is mostly uneventful. I do not come across any students. I spend a few minutes speaking to the ghost of Hufflepuff house, the Fat Friar, before he disappears through the walls. I make my way briskly along the many long and winding corridors. Most of the walls of the corridors are crowded with tapestries, statues and suits of armour. After all my years of living in this castle and patrolling as a Prefect, there is still always something new to discover. Time moves slowly as I methodically check each classroom and cupboard, but all are deserted and empty.

As I make my way up the flight of steps of one of the many staircases, I feel a sudden shifting as it starts to move. I hold on tightly to the banister, as it swings rapidly to the right. As soon as the staircase stops moving I swiftly jump off. Looking around at the dark corridor, I can tell I’m now in the wrong part of the castle. I look up as I hear quick footsteps and watch as Professor Snape descends another moving staircase to my corridor, his wand drawn and pointed directly at me. I blink at the bright light shining straight into my face and the inhabitants of the portraits hanging next to me groan loudly as the light disturbs them. 

“Oh it’s you,” he comments as he sees my face. “I thought you were a student.”

“Obviously,” I huff back at him. “Please lower your wand.”

“Nox” he extinguishes the light from his wand and lowers it from my face. “You are meant to be patrolling the west side of the castle.” 

“Yes I know that. I got…waylaid.” I am annoyed at myself as I feel my cheeks blush under his intense gaze. As per usual, he stares me down but makes no move to leave. “Seeing as our patrols have coincided, why don’t we finish our rounds together?”

After considering my offer, with a raised eyebrow, as if nothing would please him less, he nods and steps beside me, “lead the way.”

We mostly walk in silence around the corridors. He is close enough that I can feel the heat rolling off him in waves. If I wanted to I would only need to reach out slightly and our hands would be touching. When I glance at his face his eyes show no emotion and his expression is set in a permanent scowl. No change there then. Suddenly Snape motions towards a classroom door we are approaching. He signals me to stay quiet as he stalks towards the closed door. I cannot hear anything but watch him as he flings the door open to reveal two snogging Ravenclaw students. I stand at his side trying not to smirk, as Snape hurls insults at them, his tongue sharp enough that he barely needs to raise his voice.

The two unfortunate students return to their dorms, after losing a substantial amount of house points and gaining detention with Filch for a week. Alone again, I notice the scowl from Snape’s face has faded. “You obviously enjoyed that!” I cannot help but laugh at him. 

Usually laughing at Snape is not a wise move, but I see a flicker of merriment in his eyes as he says, “I look forward to seeing the look on Professor Flitwick’s face when I tell him what his students get up to in his classroom at night.”

Laughing, the tension between us broken, we spend the rest of our patrol chatting idly. I have always enjoyed talking to Snape, yes, he can be difficult and irritable but he is one of the most intelligent, quick witted wizards I know. With him being much better company, the rest of the patrol goes quickly. I like the small glimpses I catch of the true wizard he is under his cruel façade. Both of us avoid any reference to our discussion before the last staff meeting. I am still infuriated on Remus’s behalf for the offensive comment, but I do not want to ruin the nice moment Snape and I are having.

When our patrol is finished, without questioning his motives or my own, I allow him to walk me back to my rooms. When we reach my door, he lingers just long enough for me to pluck up the courage to speak. “Last week I went for a run in the Forbidden Forest…”

He frowns down at me, “not very wise when you’re not fully recovered.”

I smile at his reprimand and concern, “I was fine.”

“Continue.” He demands.

“I found something interesting.” I unlock my door and leave him standing there as I walk though my living room to my bedroom. I hear the door close, followed by footsteps as he enters. He makes no movement to enter my bedroom and I can imagine him standing awkwardly in my sitting room, not knowing whether he should sit or stand. I walk over to my bedside cabinet and pick up the small glass vase upon it, which contains the bunch of Saintpaulia. As I carry the vase into my living room I notice that Snape looks so out of place standing amongst my things. He does not belong here.

Snape turns to face me and his eyes widen almost comically as he realises what I am holding. “You found these in the Forbidden Forest?” he asks with a note of disbelief. 

“Yes,” I am pleased he is as excited about this as I am. He reaches for them and I pass the vase to him, “I took all the ones I could find.” As I talk, he is inspecting the stems carefully, probably checking if I cut them correctly. Saintpaulia is very delicate and becomes useless if damaged even slightly. 

“They only bloom for a few days, just before the first winter frost. I’ve searched the Forest before but never found any.” He mutters, almost to himself.

“I nearly didn’t see them.” He ignores my last comment as he continues to inspect them. “They’re for you.” He snaps his eyes at me. Now I have his attention.

“Why?” he asks, with a look of distrust.

“Well,” I glance around my room, suddenly embarrassed at the look of suspicion on his face. “I know how rare and valuable their properties are for certain potions. Who better to give them to, than you?” 

There is silence for a lot longer than is comfortable. “Yes, these will be very useful,” he almost whispers, as I feel his eyes still trained on me. Without saying goodbye, he starts to walk back towards the front door, still carrying the vase. I follow, opening the door for him as he walks past me. “You may assist me if you wish,” I cannot see his face, as he keeps his back to me, but I know that he is feeling uncomfortable.

“Assist you?” I am aware I am being obtuse on purpose, but I enjoy making him squirm.

“If you wanted to, you could help me brew the Solamen potion.” His back is rigidly straight and his face turned purposely away from me. He prefers to brew alone and I will undoubtedly be more of a hindrance then a help. This is his way of thanking me. 

I cannot help the huge smile on my face, “Yes, I would like that.”

“This weekend then, meet me in my classroom after breakfast on Saturday morning.” I see him out of my rooms and lock the door behind us. “You aren’t retiring for the night?” he enquires.

“I have something I need to do first.” I can tell he wants to ask me what it is, but resists the urge. After wishing me goodnight, he leaves and heads back towards the dungeons.

After Snape has gone, I make my way through the castle to Remus' office. When I reach the door, I knock and wait patiently. When the door opens, Remus’ warm smile eases the tension from my shoulders. I notice he is wearing his nightclothes and robe. “Sorry for the late hour. I was patrolling tonight and forgot you might be in bed already.”

“Not quite yet, I was just reading. Come in.” he leads me through to his Living room. He has a noticeable limp as he walks. His face contorts into an uncomfortable grimace with each step. I do not mention it as we sit opposite each other. I study his face as he pours us both a cup of tea. He looks exhausted. Usually, Remus looks like he has not had quite enough sleep, but the expression on his face is different tonight. His brown hair needs a wash; it is a mess of thick tufts sticking up in every direction. I lean towards him to smooth it down and as I move his hair off his face, I uncover a deep scratch from the back of his left ear continuing down the side of his neck. The skin is raw and angry.

I sigh, and frown at him, “you should have summoned me or Poppy to come see you about this.” He looks sheepishly back at me. I roll my eyes as I accept the cup he offers me. “How are you feeling after last night?” I ask. Yesterday was the night of the full moon and the reason why I marked todays date on my calendar. After every full moon, I check on Remus to assess any damage made during his transformations. During the change, Remus retreats to his rooms for a few days and other teachers cover his classes. The physical effects of becoming a wolf are extreme. His bones break and reshape, his muscles will tear and in the past, bone has broken through the skin. 

“I’m doing ok.” Even with his easy smile, he seems subdued.

“You’re limping Remus.” I motion to his left leg.

“It feels slightly stiff,” never one to fuss, he continuously plays down his injuries.

“Let me see.” I stand and move over to sit beside him, as he rolls up his trouser leg to show me. The skin is red and purple. My fingers move over the bruise as I manipulate the leg carefully, there is a large amount of swelling, but it is not broken. I reach in my bag and pull out various bandages, and potions. I can feel Remus’ gaze regarding me intently. “Drink this,” I pass him a potion to bring down the swelling.

It does not take long to bandage his leg. The splint will help support the muscles, while they repair themselves. I turn my attention to his face and start to tend to the scratch. As I clean the wound his eyes stay locked on mine, the sincerity in his gaze makes my heart jump in my chest. After I finish, I lean back but he stops me by brushing the skin of my cheek with his knuckles. “Can I kiss you?” he asks as he leans his face close to mine. I nod as our lips meet. The kiss is gentle, sweet, and over quickly. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He smiles at me. I am surprised but hide it from my expression. 

We stay that way for a moment, the smile on his face warming my heart. I smile back as I stand and gather up my supplies. “I will leave you to get a good night’s sleep.”

“That was ok wasn’t it? I’m not rushing you?” He questions, standing beside me, concern clearly written on his face. He looks so handsome.

“Of course not,” I smile reassuringly at him, as I ignore my reservations. “It’s late; we can talk about it another time. You need to rest.”

As I walk back to my rooms I picture in my mind myself and Remus as more than just friends. I know he is good to me, and for me.


	5. Chapter 5

Tonight Dumbledore has gathered the Order for a meeting at 12 Grimmauld Place, our headquarters. Protected by countless security spells, including the Fidelius Charm, the house is invisible to muggles and wizards. The ancestral home of Sirius Black has sat empty for the last ten years and has fallen in to disrepair. We usually hold our meetings in the gloomy basement kitchen; the room is vast enough to fit a couple of dozen wizards. Sitting at the long kitchen table in the centre of the room, I watch a spider, the size of a saucer, as it scurries across the dusty floor near my feet. 

Snape stands at the head of the table, stony-faced, grimly going through his report on the earlier Death Eater rally. Everyone listens intently to what he is describing: torture and mass killings of wizards, witches, and a large number of Muggles. Snape speaks with such authority, his voice is harsh, gravelly and strong in quality. Professor Minerva McGonagall, who is sitting on my left, gasps in horror at every gruesome detail. I stay quiet, not taking my eyes off Snape. He shows no emotion as he speaks. His dark eyes stare into the distance not focusing on anyone.

When he finishes speaking the room is silent. No one knows what to say. This war has had a massive impact on everyone. After all the battles and lives lost, it is extremely disheartening to hear that we have failed in keeping so many people safe. Snape walks over to the far side of the room, purposely putting as much distance between himself and the rest of us. He looks drained. I can only imagine what attending those rallies is like, and having to describe them in detail to the rest of us. I have nothing but the upmost respect for Snape, but I know I am one of the few Order Members that feels that way. There is suspicion and open dislike in the eyes of the majority, especially from Sirius Black. No matter how many times Snape has proved himself; it may never be enough to change certain people’s attitudes towards him. Snape seems ignorant or more likely unaffected by their opinions of him.

Professor Dumbledore walks to the front of the room. His cheerful voice booms into the silence, in stark contrast to Snape’s previous depressing monotone. Even in the face of the gravest news, Dumbledore’s demeanour lightens the mood instantly. He is over 100 years old, but with the energy and vigour of a wizard decades younger. As he moves on to other news, I turn in my chair to study Snape standing in the shadows. His eyes burn with boredom; he obviously does not have much patience for extensive Order planning. Unlike Snape, I make an effort to appear interested in what everyone is saying. I worked hard to get into the Order. With my family's history, I feel added pressure to prove my loyalties are nothing like theirs. I am desperate to feel useful in this war. As I watch Snape, his eyes meet mine. I gesture to the empty seat to my right. He nods in acknowledgment and walks over to sit next to me.

Dumbledore continues to speak about a family that Snape has informed us Voldemort will soon target. The head of the family, Mr Bishop, has recently written an article in The Prophet openly opposing Voldemort and his followers. We all know that anyone who publically speaks out against him puts themselves and their families in great danger. Dumbledore has made Mr Bishop and his family’s safety our top priority. He has already attempted to convince Mr Bishop to move to one of the Order safe houses. After Mr Bishop’s refusal, our only option is to set up patrols and 24-hour surveillance around his residence. As a muggle born wizard, he resides in a heavily populated muggle area so Dumbledore has stressed the importance of us flawlessly blending into the background. I know I can do that. I raise my hand to volunteer as soon as Dumbledore asks. I feel Snape stiffen beside me, but he says nothing. 

A plan made, when Dumbledore dismisses us, everyone busily gather up their things and start to leave. I can hear Minerva speaking to Remus, discussing the classes that she covered in his absence. When I look in their direction, Remus’s eyes meet mine warmly. He looks so much better than the previous night and I am happy to observe that he is no longer limping and his face has healed nicely. My skin heats slightly as I remember our kiss. I turn and see Snape still beside me; he takes note of my reddened appearance, one eyebrow raised. I ignore him and push back my chair, standing up I pull on my travelling cloak hurriedly, wanting to escape what suddenly feels like a potentially uncomfortable situation. Before I leave, I look over to see Remus has excused himself politely from his conversation with Minerva and is walking towards me. I take a deep breath as he comes to stand beside me. Snape has also stood up. Trying not to look as flustered as I feel, I watch as Remus and Snape regard each other. “Good evening Snape.” Remus acknowledges Snape respectfully with a smile. 

“Lupin,” Snape responds back with a look of disregard. 

Remus brushes off Snape’s coldness and wisely turns his attention back to me, “how have you been? Are you looking forward to the weekend?”

“I’m great thanks.” I am relived we are sticking to easy territory. “I’m very happy to be off duty this weekend for the first time in weeks. Do you have any plans?”

“Yes, it is my turn to chaperon the third years on their first Hogsmeade trip, this Saturday.”

“Lucky you! Hopefully everyone is well behaved and you can use the opportunity to do some Christmas shopping.” 

“Why don’t you come with me? You can do any shopping you need to and then we can have a Butterbeer at The Three Broomsticks.” 

“That sounds lovely.” I enjoy going to Hogsmeade, the countryside surrounding the town is beautiful. I would love to go, until I remember that I am spending all of Saturday with Snape, helping him brew potions, “but um, unfortunately I have plans already this Saturday.” 

“Any chance you can rearrange?” He playfully nudges my shoulder, “If a Butterbeer can’t persuade you, maybe a bag of Chocolate Frogs from Honeydukes will sway you.” 

I laugh at him; he makes me want to say yes. I glance over at Snape. He is no longer standing next to us and is instead talking to Hestia Jones, at the opposite side of the table. Even though he is not looking in our direction, he is close enough to us that I have no doubt he is listening intently. Tempting as Remus is, I am looking forward to spending time with Snape more. “Unfortunately, I will be preparing urgent potions with Poppy, for the infirmary. It can’t wait, sorry.” 

Remus looks disappointed but hides it quickly. “Never mind, we can go together another weekend.” Feeling guilty, I enthusiastically hug him goodbye before he leaves. I purposely watch Snape over Remus' shoulder and notice the way his fists clench and unclench as he watches us.

…………

I stay behind at 12 Grimmauld Place after everyone else has left. I have a cup of tea and a catch up with Molly Weasley who, along with her family, has temporally moved here. The hour is late when I Apparate back to Hogwarts. It is impossible to Apparate straight inside Hogwarts Castle so instead, I arrive outside at the wrought iron entrance gates. I look up at the starlit sky, which is clear and peaceful, reassuring in its consistency as I start walking towards the castle. Daydreaming, I am caught off guard when I hear footsteps close behind me. I turn around to see Snape who has managed to follow behind me, without me noticing, for the last 700 yards. I smile at him until I see the look on his face. He comes to stand in front of me, “why did you lie?” 

“You should know better than to eavesdrop on a private conversation.” I try to sound nonchalant, hoping to diffuse his anger.

“Answer the question, witch.” The anger on his face is palpable.

Exasperated at his behaviour I roll my eyes skyward, “I am not one of your students any more Snape. You cannot demand an answer from me.”

He snorts rudely. “Stop playing games you don’t have the intelligence for.”

His comment fuels my ire. “My discussion with Remus is none of your business.”

Snape takes a step closer to me. “He’s a werewolf! How can you bear to let him touch you?” 

I refuse to be intimated by him. “I don’t care that he’s a werewolf and I am not interested in your bigoted jealously.” 

"Don't be ridiculous,” he snaps. “Excuse me for being concerned about your safety.” 

“If you gave him a chance...” 

He laughs at me; the suppressed rage in his eyes unnerving to look at. “I don’t think Remus will feel that friendly towards me when he discovers whose company you would rather keep.”

I can feel my face heat up with embarrassment, “do not assume to know anything about me.”

“Silly girl, he bores you!”

“This conversation bores me.” I turn away from him, anger reverberating through my body. Like every previous time I have argued with Snape, it takes all my restraint to walk away from him. 

As I stomp angrily along the path, Snape stays close behind me, his measured strides catching up quickly with mine. He halts my progress with a hand on my arm. “What would your Father say if he learnt you enjoy spending so much of your time with that creature?” 

I turn back around to face him, angry at the invasion of my personal space. “Why would you bring my father into this?” As my old head of house, Snape is well aware of the estrangement between my family and me. At the time he was extremely supportive and acted as a mediator between us, until my father cut off all communication. 

“You need to rethink your involvement with the Bishop surveillance.”

I sigh and scrub my hand down my face in irritation, “why should I? I am a member of the Order, I won’t just sit back at the side-lines doing nothing.” 

“I may not be there to help you next time.”

I sneer at his comment. “Don’t patronise me, I am more than capable of protecting myself.”

“I am worried certain people’s involvement will cloud your judgement.” He slowly stalks around me. “It seems as though your family are more deeply invested with the Dark Lord then you ever realised.”

I shoot him a warning look. “What do you know?

“I know your Father has taken the Dark Mark.” 

I stare at him in shock. “You are lying!” 

“I witnessed him pledging his allegiance.” He steps closer to me. “After what happened last time, your personal safety is in jeopardy.

“How do you mean?”

“It was him, that night at the Manor.” 

“My Father was not there, I would have recognised him.” 

“Are you sure? Whom do you think you have to thank for that curse to your back? The reason you almost ended up at St Mungo's.” 

The betrayal cuts through me. No not him. However hateful my father has been to me in the past I know he loves me. Deep down every parent loves their own child, don’t they? Snape gently places his hand under my chin, lifting my head to look at him. Bile rises in my throat and I push past him. “Why didn’t you tell me before, that was five weeks ago?” 

“I did not trust what you would do with that information.”

I scream at him, “I am not a child anymore.” 

“Your Father is playing a dangerous game. I do not want you involving yourself.” 

“Regardless of what he has done he is still my Father, of course I need to involve myself. 

“That would be very unwise; he made an attempt on your life.” 

“I need to talk to him, make him see sense.”

“What can you possibly do? Once someone has taken the mark there is no way back.” 

There’s a sinking feeling in my stomach. “Just like you.”

For the first time in our argument he looks chastened, and turns his gaze away from me. “Now that you know, do not do anything stupid…” 

I swish my hand in the air, as a gesture for him to stop talking. “Don’t be stupid enough to get in my way.” This time as I walk away from him, he doesn’t try and stop me.


	6. Chapter 6

Since my argument with Snape, I have thought of nothing else. My mind is constantly churning with everything that he told me. I keep asking myself the same question repeatedly: What do I do now? My most pressing concern is getting my Father to speak to me. If Snape is telling the truth, I need to convince him of the danger he has put both himself and my Mother in. Neither of us have spoken nor tried to contact each other in nearly ten years. I assume they have not moved address and I have contemplated turning up at my childhood home unannounced, but I am afraid they will send me away without seeing me. Instead, I decide to write a letter. I visit the Owlery at the top of the West Tower. I pick a sturdy looking Barn Owl and after giving it a treat from my pocket, the owl extends its left leg and allows me to attach the letter I have addressed to my Mother. Not as strict as my Father, she is more likely to give me a chance and read the letter. The Barn Owl hoots at my command and takes off into the night.

As I wait for a response, I try my best to keep myself busy. I have become a whirlwind of activity, completing all the menial and time-consuming tasks Poppy and I usually never have time to do. Forcing myself to concentrate on work, I have actively avoided most of my colleagues. I know Poppy is concerned, but instead of confiding in her as I have in the past, it takes all my self-control not to snap at her exasperating questions. Remus does not ask why, when I tell him that work has increased and I am too tired to spend our usual evenings together. I refuse to think about Snape. When Saturday comes, instead of meeting him in his lab, I purposely confine myself to my rooms. I half expect him to come and find me but he seems to be avoiding me as well. He is an unanswered riddle, but I tell myself I have long since outgrown the need to figure him out. By the end of the week, the owl has still not returned and I know I will not receive any response.

My mood sinks further with my frustration. This evening, I force myself to go along to the Great Hall for dinner to evade any questions about my recent antisocial behaviour. I have eluded as many meal times as I can, still wanting to avoid everyone and the smell of food causing my stomach to cramp with nausea. I do not sit in my usual seat and instead choose to sit at the opposite end of the table, next to Hogwarts gamekeeper, and half-giant, Hagrid. Hagrid talks excitedly to me about his newest creature, a Moke that he has been able to hand rear from an egg. In his enthusiasm, he does not notice I am barely responding. As irritating as his constant chatter is, his tall, bulky frame is effective in keeping me hidden from everyone else. I grimace at the platters of luxurious food in front of me and sip my water slowly. As hungry as I feel, I do not think I will be able to keep anything down at present. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Snape take his usual seat, I purposely avoid looking in his direction. “I’ve never seen one.” I comment uninterested, realising Hagrid is still talking about his newest pet. He knocks into my arm conspicuously, almost causing me to spill my drink over myself. When I glare up at him, he tilts his head down to the side, a large grin mostly hidden in the tangle of his black beard. He opens one of the several pockets in his large moleskin overcoat, to reveal a small silver-green lizard. “Wow,” I whisper, smiling as it flicks its pink tongue out at me. “It is smaller than I thought.” 

“It can shrink at will, normal size it’s bigger than yer are.”

“Let’s hope it decides to stay this size.”

“Oh yeh, Jamie is a good boy. I’ve told him he needs to behave inside the castle.”

I stay longer in the Great Hall chatting to Hagrid. When I excuse myself and get up, I can feel a pair of eyes following me as I leave but do not turn my head to see who it is.

………….

In the third week of December, Dumbledore summons me first thing Monday morning, to start my initial shift of surveillance. Snape’s warning does enter my mind but I ignore the slight feeling of unease. Due to the location, Dumbledore instructs that I travel by non-magical means and change into Muggle clothing to blend in. Arthur Weasley meets me at the entrance of a large Muggle underground transport system, Waterloo. Arthur and I are sharing the patrol; he is extremely excited to be commuting like a Muggle. Inside the station, we join moving stairs, which take us down to meet the train. Arthur seems to be in awe of everything we see and talks loudly about the mastery of the moving mechanism. As we enter the cramped train carriage, he loudly wishes everyone a, “Good Morning.” Mostly confused or irritated faces meet his announcement on the quiet train and I am pleased that he takes the hint and stays quiet for the rest of the journey. After an interesting but tediously slow two-hour journey, we arrive at the Bishop’s residence.

Arthur and I take over from two Order members, who have been working the night shift. Before we start, we meet the Bishop family. John Bishop, his wife and children are quietly courageous in their belief in standing up to Voldemort and his followers. They are extremely gracious for our assistance and I like them instantly. Arthur and I start our patrol in separate directions. He walks around the neighbouring streets and alleyways. I take a walk in a park, located across the street from the house, after wandering around the large duck pond I take a seat on a bench facing the house and pretend to read a book. At the end of the day, Arthur and I meet up to compare notes. Neither of us noticed anything unusual and I am quietly relieved at how calm and uneventful today has been.

……….

A week later, I do a night shift of surveillance with Auror, Nymphadora Tonks. When we greet each other, I cannot help but laugh at her customarily bright bubble-gum-pink hair, standing out against the gloom of the street. “Do you call this blending in?”

Tonks grins as she pulls the hood of her coat over her head, “problem solved.” We start our walk along the dark and relatively empty streets. Tonks and I get on well and walk for the first few hours together for company, then split up and go in opposite directions.

Prickling cold air slaps my cheeks as snowflakes land on my nose. I walk past decorated houses with twinkling colourful lights, snow squeaking under my leather boots. It makes me smile to see the Christmas season is upon us. It is a few hours past midnight, however, it is far from quiet. Trucks, cars, and the distant rumble of drunken partygoers echoes throughout the night. I keep my wand tight in my grasp the entire way. Tiredness catching up with me, I stop walking and lean my head against the cool brick of an empty building, my eyes squeeze shut as a cool breeze lifts the curls from my forehead. I stay this way for a few minutes before the sound of low voices catches my attention. Pushing myself away from the wall, I stretch, fighting off a yawn and start walking towards the voices. 

Following the sounds, I am lead back to the Bishop’s residence. Halfway to the street, and though my vision is not clear through the snow, I think I see Tonks drawing her wand and pointing it in the direction of the park. Staring into the darkness of the unlit park, there is nothing I can see. The thumping of my heart accelerates and I tightly clench my hand holding my wand into a fist. Suddenly there is movement to my right, at the park’s entrance. Three cloaked figures are emerging from the shadows. Death Eaters! I start running in Tonks’ direction as they start aiming curses at her. She is in a good position, dropping behind a low wall, while the Death Eaters are stuck out in the open. Tonks hits one of them with a spell that knocks him to the ground, either unconscious or dead. When I arrive, ducking behind the wall next to Tonks, my body is shaking with adrenaline. “One down,” I force a smile at her.

“Focus on the one on the right.” She instructs me.

I nod, throwing multiple curses, but their strong shield charm repels them all. Tonks is not fairing any better than I am. The two Death Eaters start to slowly advance on our position. I continue countering their curses with hexes of my own, but all are easily blocked. One of their spells hits the brick wall with enough force to send bricks and rubble flying through the air. Tonks and I throw ourselves on to the ground to avoid the debris and dust crumbling around us. Before they can get any closer, I aim a curse at an old, large Oak tree, which is already leaning to one side, directly above the two Death Eaters. The trunk groans and splinters as my spell hits it. Before either of them can move out of the way, the whole tree begins to topple unnaturally fast, crushing one of them and obscuring his body with branches and leaves. “Yes,” I hiss happily until I see his companion starting to back away, not feeling as confident now that it is two against one.

“Oh, no you don’t!” Tonks jumps up and starts to give chase, as the lone Death Eater moves further into the shadows of the park. I follow behind her. She throws another spell. His step falters, but he keeps running. His Death Eater mask slips from his face. When he next turns to curse us I almost gasp aloud when I see my Father’s face, half obscured behind the crookedly fallen mask. He has reached the beginning of the large duck pond, with nowhere else to run, we have him cornered. Tonks raises her wand, before I can think, I rush her, and the momentum of my body knocking into her brings both of us to the ground. “What are you doing?” she yells at me but I ignore the accusation in her voice. 

Grabbing her wand before she can, as it lies on the ground between us, I aim it at her shocked face, “Petrificus Totalus.” Tucking her wand into my pocket, I know I do not have long; the full-body paralysis is only temporary. Ignoring the expression of betrayal on Tonks pretty face, I stand up and turn to face my Father.

My Father stands, a small man in stature, but every bit as intimidating as he was when I was a child. He holds his wand trained at me, “Nicely done.”

“You did not leave me much choice.” I keep my wand at my side. I want to avoid a fight as much as possible.

He starts to move slowly around me, edging his way from the side of the pond. “You always have a choice in this life.”

“I wanted to speak to you about that,” I point to the Death Eater mask he holds in his left hand.

“Of course you do. You have always been naive to the ways of the world,” His eyes are stern with disapproval.

“I’m not naive to mass murder!”

“Don’t act like your Order is innocent. You and your friend just murdered two pureblood wizards, to protect a family of dirty muggle lovers.” He spits on to the ground, his face turning red with anger. “You’re nothing but a filthy blood traitor!” he throws a slicing hex at me. I feel the sting of my flesh cutting along my abdomen. I double over as the sharp pain makes my eyes water. 

“Please, Father. You don’t need to do this.” His thin, severe face does not change with my pleading.

“My daughter died years ago, you are a stranger.” Another hex hits me, this time it feels like hot fat is burning the skin of my arm. His gaze is uncompromising as he watches me scream and writhe in pain. He comes to stand next to me; I try to school my face so he cannot see how afraid I am. “I should strike you down and drag you back to the Dark Lord.” He leans in close to my face, wrapping his fingers around my damaged arm, digging into the flesh. “One day you and your precious Order will get what’s coming to you! Never try to contact my wife or me again. Next time I see you, I will kill you.”

He lets go of my arm and shoves me aside. I watch him walking away from me; blinking a few times to clear the tears from my vision. I know I should stop him, kill him, but no matter how much I hate him, I cannot do it. My injuries are smarting painfully. I want to scream. I want to cry. I need to tear someone apart. 

I walk back over to Tonks, her body is still lying rigid on the snow-covered ground. Her accusing eyes following me, as I approach her. I stand over her. What the hell do I do now? She has seen and heard everything between my Father and me. If I let her go, she will definitely arrest me. I will lose my job, home, and friends. I cannot let that happen. Tonks blinks helplessly up at me, struggling to no avail to move her body away from mine. Before I change my mind, I raise my wand and point it directly at her. “I’m sorry Tonks...”


	7. Chapter 7

“I’m sorry Tonks...Obliviate.”

…………

As the memory spell hits, Tonks’ eyes go wide, before a faded look of confusion crosses over them. My heart thumps in my chest as I wearily stand over her. Seconds feel like minutes as the fear on her face slowly disappears, now she looks relaxed and calm, if slightly bewildered. She looks up at me, a trusting smile on her face, “what happened?”

I reach down, offering my hand to help her stand. “One of the Death Eater’s spells, knocked you to the ground, I think you banged your head quite hard.” The lie slips easily from my lips.   
Tonks stands and brushes dirt and grass off her jeans, “where have they gone?” she asks, her eyes searching the now deserted park.

“Two of them are dead, the third got away.” I pass her back her wand and she smiles gratefully at me, which only adds to the knot of guilt in my stomach.

Tonks raises a hand to her temple, again looking puzzled. “I don’t remember falling over… I remember giving chase into the park, then nothing.”

I ignore her comment, “we should go and check on the Bishops and inform Dumbledore about the attack.” Tonks agrees and we start to walk back towards the house. Crossing over the cobbled street, we pass the fallen tree and the demolished brick wall. Tonks and I cast a few spells to clear the mess and disguise the two Death Eater bodies. Before the fight began, Tonks had already silenced the surrounding area so no Muggles could have witnessed the battle.

………..

Hours later I stand at the Bishops’ kitchen window, looking out over the street, a mug of hot tea warming my hands. To the East, the dawn has broken, a beautiful mixture of yellow and orange on the horizon. Sitting at the table behind me, Tonks, Dumbledore and three Aurors are discussing the night’s events. The Aurors have removed the two Death Eater corpses and orchestrated a manhunt for my Father. I can only pray they find him. I should have stopped him when I had the chance. He is more of a danger than I ever imagined. 

I turn back around to sit at the kitchen table as Tonks finishes talking. It is my turn now. Dumbledore’s smile has a calming influence. I keep my answers short, sticking to the facts and collaborating Tonks’ earlier answers. I pretend the third Death Eater, after attacking Tonks, used Apparition to escape before I could apprehend him. Dumbledore nods and praises both our efforts in successfully protecting the Bishop family. I am worried he will know something is wrong and quiz me more intently but he trusts me and does not suspect that I am lying.

Tonks’ injuries are minor but due to her memory loss, the Aurors will be escorting her to St Mungo’s hospital for the medi witches to assess her. Before she leaves Tonks hugs me goodbye. I can’t look her in the eye, my hands shake with fear at the possibility that the hospital staff might realise what I did. The spell I used should not leave a trace but there is still a slim chance my deception could be discovered. I keep my own injuries a secret. I do not want the awkward questions of how I sustained them.

I am quietly relieved when Dumbledore stands from the table and recommends that I return to Hogwarts to get some much-deserved rest. I use the Floo network from the Bishops’ fireplace; I do not have the energy nor desire to use muggle transportation. Minutes later I enter my comforting bedroom and wearily undress. The cuts along my abdomen sting and bleed slightly as my movements aggravate them. The cuts are deep enough that they have gone through the skin and into the muscle tissues below. The cuts are clean and straight as if a sharp knife had made them. I apply pressure to the cuts before cleaning them with water and wrapping them in bandages. The spell I use slowly knits the skin back together as if with an invisible needle and thread. When I wake in the morning, I expect them to have closed completely. My arm is still shockingly painful; the large area of skin is red and blistered. Some of the blisters have popped open. I use a salve, the tingling feeling instantly soothing my skin. This wound will take longer to heal and I am relieved it is situated in an area that my uniform conceals. 

My wounds taken care of, I move the heavy curtain from across my small bedroom window and glance out across the gardens. The snow has fallen heavier here at Hogwarts than it had in London. I love the snow and as I look out over the blanket of white, I feel the tears that have been threating to fall since I saw my Father, gather in the corners of my eyes. As exhausted and drained as I feel, I refuse to cry and instead throw myself upon my bed and wait for the dark abyss of unconsciousness to swallow me up.

…………

When I awaken the room is filled with the deep blackness of a winter’s night. I am not surprised that I have slept through an entire day. As I sit up, the pain in my arm returns. I apply more salve and bandages. My abdomen, as I predicted, has already healed, leaving faint white scars behind. I walk to my bathroom. Turning on the shower, I stand under the hot spray as long as I can take it, hoping it will wash away the previous night’s events. I see my Father’s cruel face as I close my eyes and it takes all my energy to push away thoughts of him from my mind. My empty stomach gives a loud rumble, after sleeping all day I am ravenous. I dress carefully and wander down to the kitchens to see if there are any leftovers from dinner. As I eat, the house-elves happily accommodate me, filling up my glass with pumpkin juice and bringing me sweet treats. 

When I leave the kitchens, instead of going back to my rooms, my feet lead me in the opposite direction. I am aware of the late hour but know I will not be able to go back to sleep yet. The temperature in the castle has dropped drastically, as it usually does during these cold winter nights. I wrap my woollen cloak tighter around my shoulders and watch the whiteness of my breath billow out and disappear into the air. When I get to the door, I take a deep breath and knock. After a moment I knock again, louder this time, my foot anxiously tapping against the stone floor.

It takes a few minutes for the door to open revealing Remus, his hair ruffled, and his eyes dark and sleepy as he peers out into the hallway. When his eyes fall on me, he immediately stands straighter and tries to tame his wild hair with his fingers. I plaster a smile on to my face and without words he moves aside allowing me to enter. Once inside, I look around his familiar sitting room, I’ve missed coming here. The room is warm and dimly lit by a fire, whose coals are just beginning to burn out. I walk around the beaten old couch and move towards the fireplace, to get the last of its heat. 

“I was so relieved to hear you were ok,” Remus says as he walks over me. “I wanted to come and see you but I was unsure…” he falters, not quite meeting my eye.

“How did you find out?” I purposely ignore his sudden nervousness, knowing I have confused him with my recent coldness. 

“Dumbledore told us about the attack. He mentioned Tonks had been taken to hospital.”

“What else did Dumbledore say?” my pulse quickens as fear takes over. Unable to calm my nerves, I am almost unable to comprehend the next words Remus says.

“That St Mungo’s are keeping her in after confirming she has a concussion.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, that’s great news,” I feel almost giddy with happiness; I have got away with it! When I notice the strange look Remus is giving me I quickly add, “I’m pleased to hear it isn’t anything more sinister.” 

“Would you like a tea,” he asks, walking into the kitchen. 

I nod and turn back to look into the dying embers of the fire, the mixture of relief and guilt churning my stomach. I am ashamed that my first thought was protecting my own skin instead of being concerned with Tonks’ wellbeing. How would I have felt if my spell had caused Tonks irreversible damage? I am no better than my Father. 

Deep in thought I jump as Remus hugs me suddenly, surprising me with the unexpected contact. “I was so worried about you,” he whispers into my ear. His warmth and familiar smell surround me. After my Father’s brutal rejection Remus’ open fear for my wellbeing warms my heart. He is everything that my Father is not, kind, moral and gentle. I want to surround myself with his goodness, to rid myself of the evil taint my Father has evidently passed onto me. 

Without hesitation, I turn in his arms and kiss him. He seems surprised at my boldness but starts to kiss me back. After a few lovely minutes, I press myself harder against his lips, losing myself gladly in the taste of him. I can feel him moving slightly away, still unsure of my behaviour, so I deepen the kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck and holding him close to me. Wanting to take this further, I start to undo the buttons of his night shirt. He brings his hands to lie on top of mine, stopping my movements. I glance up into his brown eyes, happy to see them darkened with lust. “Don’t you want me?”

He answers automatically, “I have always wanted you.” 

“Then don’t stop me.” I go back to undressing him, the last of his apprehension melting away as I trail hot kisses down his chest. Following my lead, he takes the bottom of my shirt and lifts it over my head. I’m happy to notice his hands trembling slightly. 

He runs his fingertips over my skin, causing me to shiver. “Dumbledore never mentioned you had been injured, as well.” He speaks softly as he sees the large bandage around the top of my arm. 

“It’s nothing too serious.” I shrug off his concern. 

Leaning against his chest, I feel the soft tickling of his nose brushing the top of my head, taking in the scent of my hair. I close my eyes at the feeling of the whispered heat of his breath against my skin as he asks, “stay the night with me?” 

I don’t have to think about my answer as I smile up at him, “ok.”


	8. Chapter 8

There is something thrilling about sneaking along dark corridors in the early hours of the morning, hoping not to be caught by anyone. Since the first night I spent with Remus, a routine emerges as naturally as the sun at dawn. After dinner, I head over to his rooms, the excitement and expectations making even the dullest day go quickly. We barely speak as we enter his bedroom and fall onto each other. Since this began, Remus and I have an unspoken agreement to not act any differently around each other during the school day. The idea of becoming part of staff room gossip is extremely unappealing.

Content and satisfied I wrap myself tightly around Remus’ warm body, but the happiness I feel does not keep the nightly nightmares at bay. The images flash before me, yells of “Crucio” and my Father’s vicious smile. Pain wracks my body as I shriek and beg for mercy. As the dream shifts, my screams turn to malicious laughter as, instead of my Father, it is I standing over a cowering figure on the ground. Even in the intense confusion of the dream, it does not escape my attention that my laugh sounds identical to my Fathers. I look down at the defenceless body below me, anger I have never felt before burning through my veins as I rain down kicks and curses. After what feels like an eternity, the head lifts in agony and I catch a glimpse of bright pink hair, matted with dirt and blood. 

I wake up with a start, blinking away the ugly images from my mind, my body covered in a sheen of sweat and a terrible sinking feeling sits like a stone in my stomach. Remus is sitting up beside me, bleary eyed and sleepily whispering soothing platitudes to me. Once I have calmed and my heart has stopped thumping in my chest, I lay back down beside him. Remus never asks about my nightmares for which I am grateful.

After a short sleep I wake, untangling myself from the sheets I stumble out of bed and open the window, letting in a pleasant rush of cool air. In the dark, I find my strewn clothes left haphazardly on the floor. I dress quietly and tiptoe over creaky floorboards letting myself out the front door without glancing back at Remus’ sleeping figure. If my morning disappearing act upsets him, Remus never mentions it to me. Like everything about our not-quite relationship, he allows me to set the rules and doesn’t question them. 

………..

Christmas Day dawns bright and sunny, the morning air crisp as I take a walk around the gardens. My spirits lift as I watch the few remaining students making snowmen and having snowball fights. The Christmas Holidays have passed uneventfully. The few teachers and students that have stayed behind can do as they please with no classes for the next two weeks. Remus is spending Christmas with the Weasley’s at 12 Grimmauld Place. It was amusing to me that he seemed almost apologetic when he explained we would not be spending Christmas Day together. He extended the invite to me but I am happy to stay behind. It would feel too much like a proper couple thing to do, spending Christmas Day together. I don’t want to hurt his feelings but I am happy to have the excuse that I am needed in the Hospital Wing while Poppy is away visiting her sister. 

To give myself something to do while I’m not working I help decorate the Great Hall with mistletoe, holly and floating candles. I had expected to catch up with Snape during these two weeks, as he has never spoken to me of having any living relatives. I haven’t seen him at any meal times so decide to go and find him. When I attempt to seek him out, I am caught sneaking around the dungeons by Dumbledore. He answers my question without me having to ask it, “Severus has gone home for the holidays but he will return a few days before the students do.” The smile on his face and the presumptuous comment reminds me, not for the first time, that Dumbledore has a way of sometimes setting my teeth on edge.  
The Christmas feast is every bit as glorious as it should be. I eat too much, drink too much and laugh at professor Sprout’s terrible jokes.

……….

The clock on the wall of the Office chimes another hour past midnight. I wearily stand up and walk over to the infirmary beds to check on my patients. Miss Heggem and Miss Moon both suffered nasty falls from their brooms during today’s first Quidditch match of term. They both require hourly checks throughout the night to make sure no significant damage was done. Both girls are sleeping peacefully and their vitals are stable. Once I am back in Poppy’s office, I start to organise the potion stores to pass the time. Methodically cataloguing all the potion vials, making a note of any that are low. My eyes are growing heavy and I cannot help yawning, the lateness of the hour and boredom catching up with me. My tired mind drifts back to fingers fisted in bedsheets and choking down my moans into the hollow of Remus’s throat. When the infirmary door bangs open loudly, I am embarrassed at being caught daydreaming.

I rush out of the office to see the figure of Snape staggering into the room. He stumbles over to the wall, clinging to it for support. I watch in shock as his body trembles and sweat blossoms across his forehead. His eyes are unfocused, I am not sure if he can even see me. His complexion, usually pale, is now a sickly green. Seeing him in this state causes a feeling of dread to form like an icy rock in my stomach. For a moment, he merely stands there, leaning against the wall as he tries to catch his breath. As he attempts to take a step further into the room, I make my way over to him and support his weight as his legs give out beneath him. I can feel the feverish heat coming off him, his muscles trembling violently against me. I wrap his arm around my shoulders and my other arm grips tightly around his waist. He smells strongly of sandalwood and sweat. Trying not to rush him, I lead him to the nearest bed and assist him to lie down as gently as I can.

I cast a silencing charm around the cubicle and start to assess his injuries. Already there is blood pooling on the white bed sheets. I roll him carefully onto his side and lift his black robe to see his white shirt underneath is saturated in his blood. I need to stop the bleeding. I flick my wand and summon the vials I require from Poppy's stores. I quickly start to undress him, “try and lie still, please.” I undo the laces and remove his dragon hide boots. Then I start to open the top buttons of his high-necked robe. Bit by bit, I undress him carefully. He never makes a sound, no hiss or flinch of pain. Next, I remove the sweat and blood soaked white shirt, revealing the scarred skin of his chest underneath. My eyes are drawn to his left forearm. I have seen his Dark Mark before, shockingly visible against his pale skin. The first time I saw it I was surprised how much of a sick fascination I had with it. It had taken all my self-control not to trace my fingers over the jet-black brand, a visual reminder of Snape’s past loyalties.

Standing up, I tear my eyes away from the mark and continue to undress him. “Turn over slowly.” I instruct him, “I’ll help you.” He complies as I turn him to lie on his stomach. I slowly pull his shirt away from his flesh as cautiously as I can, trying not to cause him any unnecessary pain. As I throw his ruined shirt to the floor, the horror of his wounds is fully visible. I have never seen anything like it before. From his shoulder blades to the bottom of his back, his skin is a crisscross of nightmarish brutality. Not even with all my experience can I help being horrified by the deep lashes that mar the entire expanse of his back. I start casting healing spells but each one I try makes no difference. “How were these wounds made?”

At first, he does not answer and I would not be surprised if he has passed out from the pain but eventually he replies, “By a magical whip that drips poison into the blood stream.”

I swallow the lump in my throat at his words. “Why was this done to you?” 

“The Dark Lord was displeased that I took the life of Death Eater without his prior permission.”

I know the answer before I ask, but I need to hear him say it regardless, “who was it?”

He stares me straight in the eye, “your Father.”

I want to act surprised but deep down I knew this was coming, “why did you do it?”

He pointedly glances at my arm, at the wound he cannot see and should not know about. “So he will never be able to hurt you again.”

“How do you know about that?”

“Your father came to see me, seeking my counsel on how best to deal with you. He didn’t want the Dark Lord to find out that his daughter is a blood traitor. He was trying to convince me to help him get rid of you.”

I turn away from him then, not wanting him to see the pain on my face. I take a few moments to compose myself, pushing down the rush of emotions that threaten to overwhelm me. After a deep breath, I turn back to face him. He is my patient and he is losing too much blood for me to waste any more time. “These wounds will take a long time to heal and the scarring will be significant.” He does not speak. I run a mental inventory of potions and counter spells for this type of poisoning and start tending to them as best I can. It takes a long time to stop the bleeding and extract the poison. Once the wounds are clean, I grab a bottle of Dinity, squeezing a generous amount onto my forefinger and rubbing the cool cream into his skin.

I pass him a Blood-Replenishing Potion and help him tilt it into his mouth. I can sense he is falling asleep as the pain leaves his body. Slowly, methodically, I work a wet cloth over his skin, cleaning away all traces of his sweat and blood. I leave him to sleep but check on him regularly. It is remarkable to see him in such a calm and serene state after all he has endured. He looks peaceful. Gently I move the hair from his face, my mind muddled with thoughts of him.

While he sleeps, I quickly check on my other patients, who thankfully are all still asleep. An hour later, I hear him starting to stir. Walking back to the bed I see his eyes open and fix themselves with a vague, puzzled look upon his face.

“You are at Hogwarts, in the infirmary,” I speak calmly waiting for him to recognise where he is. “You needed that sleep.”

“Yes,” he says in a spontaneous response. He sits himself up and turns until he is sitting on the edge of the bed. He holds up his hand to stop me as I move closer to help him. He lowers his feet carefully to the floor, keeping a tight hold on the edge of the bed to steady himself. “My clothes?” he asks after noticing his half-dressed appearance.

“I tried to clean your shirt as best I could,” I say as I pass him back his shirt, coat and shoes. I look away as he dresses. Keeping my hands and eyes busy as I tidy away the blood soaked cloths and bandages. “You should stay the night. I will need to check your bandages every few hours.”

He shakes his head. “I would prefer to be in my own rooms. I will return in the morning for my bandages.”

“Of course” I walk with him to the door.

When we get there, he turns and looks at me. His eyes, usually cold and demanding, hold something different…something warm. “Thank you, for looking after me and… I hope you realise what I had to do was necessary in keeping you safe.” Severus rests his hand on my arm, caressing it as he gazes at me intently.

Suddenly my body becomes aware of how close we are to each other. There is no more than two inches of space between our bodies. No wonder that my heart is suddenly pounding like a drum. I close my eyes as he leans in close, brushing my hair behind my ear. Instead of letting go right away, he plays with it, twisting it around his finger. I feel heat rise in my face and spread throughout my body. “Goodnight, Snape.” I step back, returning Snape his personal space. 

“Goodnight.” He turns and leaves, I stand there watching him go.


End file.
